


A Cat May Go to a Monastery

by Cinaed



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, Cats, Convent Husbands, Families of Choice, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1455874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fauchelevent is suspicious of a newcomer to the convent. Cosette is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cat May Go to a Monastery

"A cat may go to a monastery, but she still remains a cat." - Ethiopian proverb 

 

* * *

 

 

Cosette wears a look of utmost concentration, her small, thin face tense and focused as she creeps through the melon patch. Observing, Fauchelevent is amused by her careful grip on the flowers that she’s twisted into a miniature crown, the way she sets down each foot with care. 

Then he realizes her purpose, her gaze fixed upon a certain patch of sunlight and the small, deceptively innocent-looking creature that has settled into the spot for an afternoon nap. Having made a flower crown for both Fauchelevent and Madeleine earlier, one which even now sits lopsidedly upon Fauchelevent’s brow and threatens to obscure his sight, she now intends the same for the cat.

The cat, which a few weeks earlier appeared in the convent just as mysteriously as Madeleine and Cosette, and remained, it seemed, only to make Fauchelevent’s life a misery. Fauchelevent huffs out a breath, making a face in the direction of the sleeping animal. 

”You should stop her,” he says to Madeleine, who looks up from his weeding and notices Cosette as well.

There’s a sudden crinkling at the corners of Madeleine’s eyes, his version of laughter. He watches Cosette’s progression for a second. “Why?” 

“ _Why_?” Fauchelevent echoes in disbelief. He shakes his head. “Because the beast will probably scratch her! How many times has it nearly tripped us both—”

"I do not think that has ever been its intention," Madeleine points out, and Fauchelevent grimaces, conceding the point, for the cat is fascinated by the bells that chime at their knees. "And it won’t scratch her." 

"I—"

Fauchelevent is interrupted by a warning growl and a disappointed cry from Cosette. When he looks back, the patch of sunlight is empty and Cosette is blinking up at the nearby apple tree where apparently the cat has found shelter.

"Come down," she says in a coaxing way, hopefully smiling up at the tree, but other than a slight rustling of leaves that might have been the wind, the cat ignores her, apparently content for the moment in its sanctuary. 

As Cosette’s face falls in disappointment and she begins to twist the flower crown in her hands, Fauchelevent clucks his tongue. “Ah, Cosette, come here. Ignore that ungrateful beast. Let me admire your flowers,” he says. 

The flower crown is slightly crumpled now, but Fauchelevent praises it loudly, directing a few pointed looks in the direction of the apple tree and ignoring the amused crinkling at the corners of Madeleine’s eyes. 

"Well!" he says at last. "That cat may have no appreciation for flowers, but I think it’s lovely—" He stoops a little, ignoring the twinge in his knee, and starts to hand the crown back to Cosette when there is a sudden, almost frenzied rustling of leaves and the cat leaps from the apple tree.

There is a rush of displaced air as the cat narrowly avoids knocking into Fauchelevent’s shoulder, and then a dull thud as the cat lands on the ground by his feet. Fauchelevent stares at it. 

The cat stares back, looking vaguely affronted. Then it throws itself carelessly onto the ground, rolling in the dirt with a pointed air that says that had been its intention the entire time. 

Fauchelevent shakes his head. Cats, he decides, are strange creatures. “Well, see, Cosette,” he remarks. This time he succeeds in passing the crown back to Cosette. “It would have only gotten your crown dirty after all.”

There’s a small, strange sound from Madeleine, one which sounds almost like a cough but isn’t. When Fauchelevent squints at him, however, Madeleine smiles placidly back and says only, “Cosette, will you fix my crown? I think it is a trifle loose.” 


End file.
